


Morning Coffee

by moonlight_jukebox



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26357656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlight_jukebox/pseuds/moonlight_jukebox
Summary: Reader has just moved to their new neighborhood and finds more at their local coffee shop than they had expected.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 104





	Morning Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Request prompt from Tumblr:  
> hello, i was thinking if you could write the fluffiest fluff possible about spencer x reader (i’m a girl but it can of course be gender neutral), i’m okay with anything you desire. the only thing is i’d like the reader to be a little shy, just a little :) thank you so much!!!

My first order of business once I moved into my new neighborhood was to find a coffee shop that could become _my_ coffee shop.

I didn’t stop to pick up coffee every day, but I liked having a set place to go. I liked to know the menu so I wasn’t nervous whenever I had to order. My friends didn’t understand why I felt that way, but the thought of ordering something during a crowded morning and then not knowing what I wanted and holding up people’s morning because I wasn’t prepared?

It made me never want to stop for coffee ever again.

I had always gotten anxiety about the strangest things. I was perfectly comfortable giving presentations at work, but I couldn’t approach one person in a coffee shop and introduce myself.

On my third morning in my new neighborhood, I found a smaller coffee shop about a block away from my apartment. I had walked by a few times, and I looked them up online. I felt relatively confident in my decision.

I always got up earlier than I technically needed to. I liked to allow time for something to go wrong. My mother had engrained punctuality into my very soul.

On that crisp morning in late September, at 7:37 am, I was walking towards the coffee shop from the east end of the street, and there was a man walking from the west. I could tell from our pace that we were going to arrive at the same time, and now I was trying to decide if I wanted to speed up and beat him, slow down and go in after him, or just let events unfold.

Like I said, anxiety about the silliest things.

I sped up, which turned out to be a mistake. I had underestimated how long the man's legs were. He was a head taller than me, wearing gray suit pants and a black coat. He had a scarf wrapped around his neck and it looked like he hadn't brushed his curly hair in at least a week.

He was slim with angular features. His cheekbones and jaw were both well defined. He was beautiful.

None of that is what really drew my attention.

He looked sad. Not outwardly sad. It was the sort of sad that seeped into your bones and promised to be your companion for much longer than you wanted.

The beautiful man got to the door a second before I did; he gave me a tight-lipped awkward smile when he opened the door, waving me inside.

I muttered my thanks and slipped through the door right before he did.

“You go ahead,” I said to the man. “I don’t know what I want yet.”

A complete lie. I knew that menu better than the baristas probably did.

He had brown eyes, but it was almost an insult to call them brown. They looked like caramel with little flecks of gold.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”

Another terrible thing about me is how I romanticize people in my mind. I recognized a sadness in this beautiful man and suddenly found myself fascinated by him.

Which is why I made getting coffee every morning around 7:37 am a part of my routine.

This went on for weeks; somedays I would see that man, and my days were always a bit darker when I didn’t. I couldn’t discern any sort of pattern about the days he came in, but I kept searching for one.

My best friend laughed at me every day but in a sweet, teasing way. I learned most of the baristas' names and they learned mine. I liked June the best; she was in her 20's and had curly black hair. She had a piercing in her left nostril and she always laughed politely at everyone's jokes.

I always tipped my baristas, but I tipped her best. 

It was the third week of October now. I was making my daily trip to the coffee shop, my headphones in my ears, my gaze sweeping over the changing fall leaves. I couldn’t even begin to describe how much I loved autumn.

I hadn’t expected to see him today; he hadn’t been there for the past two days, and he was usually gone for at least 4 days at a time. So, I wasn’t paying attention. I was watching the orange and gold leaves sway in the breeze, my hands shoved in my coat pockets.

When I looked up, he was holding the door open, waiting for me.

I felt my cheeks heat. “Oh my god,” I mumbled. “You didn’t have to hold this for me. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention!”

The man just chuckled, and smiled down at me, revealing his straight white teeth. “I haven’t been holding it long,” he offered, waving me through the door.

Once we were both inside, I waved him ahead of me.

He smiled at me again. “Is this a habit with you?” I raised my eyebrows at him, indicating my confusion. “Letting people who hold the door open for you get in line first?”

I gave an awkward laugh. “You remember that?”

We walked over to the line, standing side by side. “I sort of remember everything.”

“That must come in handy.”

That same sadness appeared in his eyes for a moment before it washed away. “Sometimes,” he mumbled.

When we both got up to the counter, June was working the counter. “Hey, y/n!” she called out, a huge smile on her face. “Usual?”

I nodded.

"You must come here a lot," the man said.

“More often than I should.”

"I've seen you every morning I've come in here since September 27th.”

My head snapped up to look at him. “What? You remember the day?”

“I have an eidetic memory,” he answered sheepishly. “I can also read 20,000 words per minute, and I have an IQ of 187.”

I couldn’t stop my eyes from going wide. “Wow.”

He just offered a slightly awkward chuckle.

June came back over with my drink, telling me my total. The man interrupted. “I’ve got it.”

June’s dark eyes went comically wide.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” I began.

“I know,” he said. “But I want to.”

I might have imagined it, but I could have sworn I heard June let out a squeak.

“Well…thank you.”

Nobody ever bought me coffee. Nobody ever really bought me anything, come to think of it.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?”

I shook my head. “No, not really. I’m just…not used to people doing that.”

He looked confused. “You’re not used to people buying you coffee?”

I felt my cheeks heat again. “No, not really.”

June rushed back over with his drink before taking his money. "Keep the change," he said, turning and walking away from the counter with me. He looked down at his watch…which he was wearing over top of his shirt sleeve. _Odd._ “I have to go,” he muttered, almost sounding sad.

“Oh, okay.” I went over to the door, holding it open for him. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

The man smiled at me again, a real smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “It was nice to meet you too, y/n.”

With a wave, we turned and walked in opposite directions.

I was halfway to the train station when I realized I hadn’t asked him his name.

\--

He wasn’t at the coffee shop the following morning.

But June was.

“So, what was _that?!”_ She had whisper hissed the second she saw me.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

I just shrugged, grateful for the lack of customers. “I had never talked to him before. I didn’t even ask his name.”

She pressed her fingers against her forehead. “A cute guy _buys you coffee_ and you don’t get his name? Or number?”

I nodded, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. “I got nervous,” I defended.

June huffed out a sigh. “I know he’s told me his name before.” She pondered for a moment before she turned and called out over her shoulder. “Steven! Who was that guy who bought y/n’s coffee yesterday?”

Steven just blinked at her. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Her hands went to her hips. “Yes, you do! He’s skinny, he has curly brown hair, dresses like a professor but he isn’t old enough? Cute, got a jawbone that could cut glass?”

“Spencer,” a voice supplied from behind me.

I froze, my eyes fixed on June's face. She turned back to look at me and gave a bright smile to whoever was behind me. "His name is Spencer….?" She trailed off.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” the man in question supplied.

My eyes just shut tight. Maybe if he couldn’t see me this wouldn’t happen.

Of course, my luck was never that good. He stepped up to the counter beside me. "About 2 minutes after I walked away yesterday, I realized I hadn't told you my name."

I pulled my lips between my teeth, letting out a deep sigh before I turned my head to look up at him. He had the same coat on today, his hair was in similar disarray, but his eyes didn't seem quite so sad. They were sparkling today, and the tips of his ears were red like maybe he was embarrassed too.

“It took 2 minutes?” I asked at last.

Dr. Spencer Reid just nodded. “It probably would have taken less, but I was busy mentally kicking myself for not asking for your number.”

I dug my teeth into my bottom lip, but even that couldn’t suppress my smile at his words.

“We can probably fix that,” I teased.

"That's a relief," he confessed. "Then I just have to ask you out. That shouldn't be too hard." He let out a self-deprecating laugh like that wasn't the sweetest thing I had ever heard.

I knew for certain I heard June let out an excited squeak that time.


End file.
